


An Asgard Holiday

by misreall



Series: Loki And Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist [7]
Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Fucking, Pre-MCU, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 02:58:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11842530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misreall/pseuds/misreall
Summary: Loki tells Nora a bedtime story from his past.





	An Asgard Holiday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dianamolloy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianamolloy/gifts).



> Unbeta'd, this is a belated birthday gift for my darling DianaMolloy - a reader and writer of great bravery and talent. Much love to you.

Loki stroked Nora’s hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “I am amazed that you are still awake. And disappointed in myself that I have not worn you out.”

She rolled closer to him, tucking herself against his side, her fingers gently stroking his ribs, “You were as exhausting as ever,” she could feel the power of his eyeroll trembling through his skin. “But I haven’t been able to fall asleep since we arrived on Veidrfit. Something about the light.”

“Ah, that makes a kind of sense.”

Veidrfit was a former Aesir colony in the farthest reaches of their celestial domain. Over time the Aesir had interwed and bred with the local creatures and had become independent of Asgard, although still closely aligned. Their Midsummer celebration was considered one of the most festive and naughty in the universe, so even though it brought them a bit close to Odin’s sphere of influence for comfort Loki was willing to risk it to share it with Nora. 

Due to it being Midsummer, and the capitol was in the far north, the light was exquisitely pearly and gentle, but also lasted all day, with only an hour or two of twilight a night. Nora was clearly having trouble adapting to it. 

“Shall I tell you a bedtime story, princess?”

Nora smiled up at him, “Sure. How about one about you and the Veidrfit queen... ?” 

They had made an oh-so-brief visit to the palace to greet Queen Anat, Loki trusting her to keep his identity a secret. She was still astonishingly lovely, her gorgeously round and toothsome body draped in a few violet silks that matched the glints in her russet hair, her masses of pale skin still just begging to be marked and worshipped and used. Her haughty gaze was no longer that of a somewhat unsure but bright girl, but that of a knowledgeable and confident ruler.

Loki gave a snort, which even he could not make sound elegant, “You caught that, did you?”

 

“Am I new? Of course I caught that. Besides, you seem to have made it your mission in life to bed every attractive monarch in the universe. Now give, and don’t skimp on the details,” Nora said, working her knuckle into his side.

“Alright! Alright!” he laughed, squirming, and then when they had settled down with her again resting against him, “This story goes back to oh, a hundred years before I tried to conquer earth, when the beautiful Queen Anat was still the beautiful Princess Anat, who was one of the many lovely maidens my mother hoped to marry me off to. And it begins, of course, once upon a time….”

 

Anat loved pretty dresses. Especially her court dress that covered her from neck to toe in thickly embroidered velvet and gems. And jewels. She loved being fussed over, her hair being prepared just so, and then to step into court - in this case the court of the AllFather on Asgard - and hearing the soft ‘ahhh’ as her efforts were appreciated.

But.

But she did not like not being able to scratch. 

And the particular spot that was itching, rather insistently, was in a place where a princess, being perfect and lovely at all times, should never ever have to scratch. But she did. She really did. Which was made more annoying by the fact that her chief lady-in-waiting had been correct - the lace her her new panties was too coarse regardless of how pretty it was.

Still, Anat had trained to be a perfect princess all of her life and so she sat and only shifted the slightest bit to relieve some of the-

From the corner of her eye she saw Prince Loki, her potential consort smirking quite openly at her from where he sat beside her. 

“Something bothering you, princess? You are squirming like a virgin riding bareback for the first time,” he whispered so not to be heard over his father going on and on greeting their delegation. In spite of the space between them Anat could hear his voice in her ear, his warm breath caressing the flesh along her neck.

Magic users!

Anat’s mother had warned her over and over before going to Asgard that Prince Loki had a reputation as a troublemaker and as being impossible to please. That she must steel herself for potential unpleasantness and rejection. 

What she had not warned her about was how handsome the prince was. From his raven hair and brilliant, too knowing green eyes, to his long, graceful body, his perfect nose, and deep, resonant voice he was the most lovely man she had ever seen. Even his ivory skin was nearly as perfect as Anat’s own.

From the moment they had been introduced the day before at an intimate reception for just his family and her courtiers, she had known that there was no way that Loki would accept her troth. He had no clearly intention of being a king in all but name. 

But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to amuse himself with her in the meantime. 

Anat turned herself ever so slightly away from him. There was a dry chuckle tickling in her ear, “Now, now little princess, that is terribly rude of you. Not at all the actions of a future queen. Perhaps that terrible discomfort you are feeling is distracting you from your normal graciousness. As your host, I feel duty bound to offer you succor.”

His voice was insinuating, working its way from her ears to other, even more sensitive parts of her body.

“Wh-” Anat had to stop herself from speaking aloud, lacking the prince’s magic to make herself unheard.

“Now, where is your distress coming from? Is it here?” She felt a light brush along the inside of her wrist. “No. You would be able to handle such a problem just by shifting your bracelet. It has to be somewhere…. Intimate… does it not?”

How could he? This is was a terrible invasion of her person! She was a princess….

A feeling like fingers trailing over her stomach, gently kneading at her thick, creamy flesh, “Ummm, you feel wonderful even like this. I can only imagine what all of that beauty would feel like under me. Still not the right spot. If anything you look worse, my poor little princess! Perhaps up a little?” 

Fine fingertips, with short but sharp nails, crept up her breast, cupping them loosely, “Hmmm… I suppose I could be making matters worse. Am I? Tap your fingers on your armrest and I shall stop…”

Anat willed her fingers to move. Just a quick tap. 

Her fingers defied her.

“Wake up, little princess!” Loki’s voice was sharp, and accompanied by an equally sharp pinch to her now tight and achy nipples. The pinch turned into a pull and it was all she could do not to arch out of her seat, “Just the smallest tap and I stop. Even one precious finger just stroking on that wood? No? Last chance. No tapping and I shall assume you require my continued assistance. As long as you can behave yourself. It would not do to have your regal personage putting on a show for the masses. Unless,” the fingers began to rub her breasts just a bit roughly, “you might like that sort of thing. To have everyone here see you … to see you. So, tap or not?”

Her thoughts were a bit blurry other than what a lovely voice he had. Surely anything said by such a lovely voice had to be reasonable and right. He certainly sounded confident. And she was feeling such a terrible irritation now.

Anat’s fingers clutched at the armrests, her knuckles going white.

“Good girl,” he purred, fingers patting her fondly as they worked their way down her body and parts of her clenched. 

“Now, what is this? These are dreadful, princess. I would think that royalty would have better taste in … everything, actually,” he said as he ‘touched’ her new undergarment, just the warmth of it coming through the lace. “They are clearly chafing your regal little cunt.”

Anat gasped out loud at both the sudden obscenity and the feeling of her now naked skin being cupped. 

At the sound Odin stopped talking and turned to look inquiringly at her. The ominous and stern King made her uncomfortable, especially since his youngest son was secretly pushing her legs apart under her wide, heavily embroidered skirts. 

The hand returned with a firm, stinging slap between her legs, “Nod regally and smile expectantly at my father so he will go on!” His voice was as firm as the slap and very cold.

Gulping slightly, Anat did as she was told, which made her private area pulse and quicken.

“If you continue to attract attention I will sadly have to stop.” He didn’t sound sad at all.

Anat steeled her spine as she had been taught. 

With no more preparation something that didn’t feel like fingers worked its way deep into her, long and wide and squirmingly uncomfortable. “You are exceptionally wet. I am hoping that considerable gown can absorb it all or you are going to be leaving behind all sorts of evidence of what a dirty little girl you are.”

The whatever it was turned subtly in her, touching her in certain places fleetingly enough to make her want to whine, and it was all she could do not to nod at his words. She was a dirty little girl. She just hadn’t known it before.

“No motions, princess. Let me help you with that.”

Strong, invisible fingers wrapped soundly about her throat, working like a stock to keep her head held proud, while delicately squeezing and releasing. 

“I know you are no virgin. The custom of your planet wouldn’t let you go into the wedding market without… experience. I imagine most of that was rather tedious for you,” now the stroking inside of her grew more insistent. And larger. She could feel her gown grow damp beneath her, and it was all she could do to not hump, her hips wanting to move in any way they could, for relief as much as release.

Instead she stayed very, very still, and let him do as he would.

“I am sure that the experienced lovers that were picked for you probably stroked your royal pussy with a sort of gentleness and consideration that made you want to yawn. Except your manners were too good. I bet you pretended a sweet, lady-like orgasm and then lay in frustration every night.”

She began to clamp down in wild spasms, as everything grew faster and there was a slamming that should have been moving the heavy wooden throne she sat upon. 

So close! The pleasure was being forced through her body, filling every bit of her, filling her her head and leaving no room for thinking.

“Which is why I am sure you’ll be a good little princess since we have to stop playing now. It’s time for your speech,” he said in her ear with a chuckle.

Anat’s heart was beating its way out of her chest, and it was all she could do not to shout out “NO!” when everything stopped as if nothing at happened. 

Except she was soaked and pantiless and on the edge of unspeakable pleasure, “You look so adorably bereft. Flushed and with wide little girl eyes. The masses will love you. Do a good job and we will play more later.”

Trembling and trying not to curse, Anat took the AllFather’s hand and let him lead her to the front of the dias. Only years of learning speech after speech flawlessly saved her.

That and the amount of fabric in her gown.

 

Alternating between fury and longing, Anat was gracious through the rest of court - Loki was right, the populace seemed to love her - and the follow feasting. Afterwards there was dancing of a sort. A rather horrible sort. The Aesir were not a musical people, and only a few of them - the princes, two beautiful golden sisters named Amora and Lorelei, and the queen - seemed to have hips capable of motion.

Even when seated next to her at the feast, Loki had given no indication of what had passed between them. He was polite and charming, filling her plate and smiling. Only later in the evening when she had called for more wine did a bit of a cold glint come into his eye.

“Bring the princess water, instead,” he ordered the servant. “Our wines are very strong, not for the unsuspecting, highness.”

“I’m not a child,” she sniffed angrily.

“Are you not? You are rather acting like one right now, taking that tone with me.” He sounded too pleasant, like an exasperated father trying to stop his child from making a scene, “A bit spoiled. But then as a future queen you would be spoiled. No one was going to be brave enough to take you over their knee and coloring that mouthwateringly fulsome behind of yours bright red. Rather the color of your other cheeks right now,” he added with a smirk.

After that he gave her a pleasant grin and turned his attention to the general from her homeworld who had been sent to oversee the delegation.

It was the last they had spoken that night, other than the formal goodbyes when the fete finally broke up long hours after midnight.

Anat sat in a confused daze as her maids removed her jewelry and make-up, took down and combed out her long hair, and then disrobed her. If she had been paying attention she would have noticed they exchanged some looks at what she wasn’t wearing under her skirts. When they brought her long nightgown she dismissed them and slipped into the vast bed naked. Her skin felt tight and too sensitive to bear even the featherweight touches of the silk.

“Tsk, tsk. Already abed, and here I thought we had an assignation,” a voice came from the recesses of the vast room she had been given as an honored guest. 

Anat sat up. She knew she should be outraged, she should be clutching the blankets to her breasts and calling for her guards. Instead she stared wildly, unable to see anything. Then everything was flooded with golden light, and the demonic prince of Asgard was standing at the foot of her bed, arms crossed, a blandly pleasant smile on his face.

“You should wear less more often, Anat. That skin needs to be seen to be believed.”

He reached down and snatched the blankets, pulling them from her with a little shriek as the force spun her and she ended up face down on the bed. “Ummmm….. Less is clearly more,” he purred, and before she right herself, Anat felt the bed next to her sag and his hand appreciatively caressing and circling her behind.

“You were very good at court. Mostly. So I think just maybe a swat or three so you remember to behave. That seems fair, does it not?”

There was something hypnotic about his voice and that soothing touch that she found her face buried in her arms, her head nodding in agreement to whatever he might want. 

Wait? What? Why?

“I mean no, of course you may not-” she tried to rise to her knees, clutching the blankets.

Then his hand slid between her legs and she dropped back down, “Now that is what a little princess would say. A little girl who was confused about what she wanted. Who was standing on her pride, in a place where a woman would admit she just does not possess any,” he stroked back and forth with each word and again she found herself agreeing with him. “A queen knows enough to trust her instincts, and your instinct was to let me spank you, was it not?”

This time she let herself nod, hiding her face.

“No hiding, Anat. Look. You do not have to get on your hands and knees, but you do have to watch.”

There was a sharp pinch to her clit sent her to her hands and knees anyway, with a cry. “Well, if you insist,” she could hear the smile in his voice. “I knew you would be quite comfortable like that.”

She looked back over her body, not managing to focus on him when, with no further warning, a hard, HUGE hand clapped against the underside of her bottom, sending sharp and resonating pain through her delicately rippling flesh. “How pretty…” he murmured, “both the color and the movement. You are a delightful plaything, princess.”

Anat had certainly felt pain before. As a child she had skinned her knees like any other. Over time toes had been stubbed, knees bumped into chairs, even the odd papercut, but no one had ever dared to hurt her before. It felt so much more transgressive, so much more intimate, so much more entirely, than anything she had ever experienced. 

“Shall we continue?” He asked, that same pleasantly amused voice, as if he was engaging in the smallest of talk. 

We.

Shall we continue.

Anat liked that it was we. They were doing this. 

Not quite able to meet his eyes, she nodded, and he ran a hand over the small of her back, “Good girl.”

The next smack was on her other cheek, this one almost worse because she was anticipating it. He halted for just a moment, and then in quick, stunning succession he landed alternating blows from side to side, his long, elegant hand strong and able to cover an astonishing amount of her skin. It was only six more all together, but Anat found herself having to turn back to bury her sobs in the blankets. 

It burned! Why would it burn? And it ached. It ached through her bones and her blood, like she would feel it forever, like she would never forget. 

Then, she squealed and gave a shriek, barely holding back from a jump as sharp teeth took a good bite out of the burning place.

“Apologies,” Loki said, his voice less amused and even deeper, “but the colour is too beautiful. I needed a taste. And I almost take more than just a little bite.”

His tongue licked over the pained place, and Anat felt herself flush. 

One long, slow lick made it’s way from her anxious clit to her anus, leaving her moaning in embarrassed pleasure. “How you love being treated like a toy, Anat. Now, a quick question before we continue, would you like my cock in your lovely, pulsing cunt,” a long finger teased her there, “or in your delightfully tiny sphincter?” He circled and toyed with that part of her as well, and she moaned harder, “Since you are my guest I will allow you to chose.”

She answered, her voice muffled by the blankets.

Each finger grew more insistent, more invasive, “What was that?”

She lifted her head, and the words rushed out, “My cunt, please, my cunt, please, I’m not, I’ve never….”

“Of course, princess. One lesson learned at a time is the best way, after all.” 

Anat was shocked when one of those lovely hands flipped her easily over, “I like an audience for a good fucking,” he said, one hand holding her down while the other deftly undid some kind of invisible fasteners on his leather trews, pulling out his-

Anat gulped.

Loki’s penis was as splendidly long and straight as he was, but she was unprepared for how thick. It stood ruddy, with a few drops gracing the head, looking all the more obscene as he was fully dressed in his court finery. He knelt between her knees and then pulled her roughly onto his thighs so she lay awkwardly, her back bowed and her body unable to find purchase.

When he entered her she realised that this was what she had been feeling during court. 

That would not have seemed possible, but this whole day wouldn’t have seemed possible to her before it happened. She was the future queen of her people and she had been teased, punished, and was now being fucked and used.

“It is fine to love it, princess. Anat. Little queen. To take your pleasure as you wish. You are a queen,” he fucked into her deeply with each word, or more correctly, he used her to fuck himself with, his hands bruising her hips as he slid her hard on and off of him. She felt herself start to shake. “Touch yourself, I hate to see idle hands,” he ordered.

It took more than a little strength to move her hand to her clitoris, but she was trembling so hard by this point she didn’t need to move her fingers, just to press. To press very, very hard.

“I- I-” she gasped out, wanting to ask him something.

“Just go ahead and come, you’ll be so much more articulate after the fact,” he gritted out, putting one of his hands over hers and pushed so hard that for a moment she thought she had urinated on the bed, and then the shock passed and the climax took her so hard she lost her mind to the scream and was only slightly aware when his release mixed with hers.

 

Three days later, when the Veidrfit delegation was ready to return home, Loki took his leave of the exquisite princess, taking her hand to step a bit away from where Odin and the Veidrfit General were bloviating at each other.

“I have to say I have never enjoyed not become affianced so much before,” he said, still holding her hand.

“Are you certain-” Anat was wearing a lighter gown than was strictly in fashion for her world, but it was perfect on her, “We could-”

He shook his head and kissed her fingers, with just enough teeth to make her body tense and then relax, “No, my little queen. You need a more … dedicated companion than I would be. Someone who would be as single-minded in their desire as you are. And I am no one’s consort. I want to rule everywhere or nowhere.”

Anat kissed his smooth cheek, “And as a queen I can only be ruled one place…”

“Precisely. Besides, I’m really not the marrying kind.”

 

Nora snorted sleepily, rolling over, “Spoon me, husband. I think I can sleep now.”

Loki wrapped himself around her, whispering gently in her ear, “Slave driver,” as she nodded off.

**Author's Note:**

> Anat was the name of an ancient Egyptian goddess of the hunt.


End file.
